


A Chance is All I Ask

by Fad1ng



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Night Terrors, No Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, fucked up past, reader is not gender specific
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fad1ng/pseuds/Fad1ng
Summary: Working as a suicide hotline worker means that you have heard a lot of shits and solved many problems, but are you ready to do your job without a telephone?——————“It wouldn’t matter anyways.”  Sans turned his head to you fully, an artificial grin frozen on his face, “it never mattered.”For the first time, you can see the pure exhaustion prevalent in both of his eyelights.Despite his smile, Sans looked hollow and drained, as if he hadn't slept for the past three days.As if he is too tired to hold on to life.
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a side project that I wanted to work on, don't know how often I will update since I will be putting most of my attention on my Momma CQ fic. 
> 
> But you bet yo ass ima finish this after I'm done with the other one. XD
> 
> I will most likely add new characters and tags after I shift my attention to this fic, I don’t have everything planned out yet.

“So don’t give up hope, okay? Please call us again if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone.” 

You put down the telephone shortly after the call ended, this is the 5th one you received today, and thankfully all of them so far have ended on a positive note.

Working as a suicide hotline operator is not an easy job, dealing with emotions ranging from unbearable grief to suffocating helplessness can seriously mess up your own mentality. 

This has been your third year on the job, and although you have grown familiar to the motion of picking up telephones, the conversation that pursues after has never lessened in weight.

You would be lying if you said that you have never considered quitting your job, but at the end of the day, someone has to sacrifice their emotional stability and help those that are in need.

Who else would do it if you don’t?

Besides, you have made a promise to never stand on the sideline again. 

A promise that you intend to keep.

“Good job Y/N, you are off for the day, go home and get some rest.” 

Your boss walked over to you, giving you a sturdy pat on the shoulder before handing you an envelope. 

“Your pay for the month,” your boss winked at you with a grin, “it’s a bit more than last time, the state government has given our department another increase in funding, go treat yourself with something nice, will ya?”

That caught you a little surprised, this has already been the third time your pay went up this year.

But you guess it makes sense, ever since the monsters were freed from Mt. Ebott, talks of mental health are pushed to the forefront of discussion again. 

Monsters are extremely vulnerable to depression and other mental health problems, as loss of hope can literally kill them. 

For this reason, it is common for monsters to seek help from emergency hotlines, you yourself have received numerous calls from monsters just in the last month alone.

There aren't a lot of monsters, probably around 5000 in total, too little for the government to risk losing any of them and their valuable magic. 

You didn’t know what exactly is being done with monsters’ magic, but you have heard rumors that they are creating new technologies with a combination of science and magic.

But no matter how hard the government tries to portray a positive image for the monsters, fear and racism always find a way to suppress logic and morality.

Anti-monster groups are actively pressuring for the segregation of monsters from the rest of the society with public protests and hate speech. Combined with the sudden change in lifestyle and culture, life has been stressful for many monsters, leaving them exposed to the possibility of ‘falling down’. 

You took the envelope without any complaint, just with your current salary alone, you can maintain a comfortable middle-class lifestyle with extra savings in your bank account for occasional vacations. 

At least being mentally fucked by your work comes with financial benefits.

“Thanks boss, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You quickly left the operation center and got into your car. It’s 7PM in the middle of the winter, meaning that the sky is already pitch dark.

A wave of soothing warm air rushed to your face as you turned the car’s AC on full blast, letting out a sigh of relief before leaving for the road.

The drive home wasn’t that long, but you do live in a remote part of the town and the lighting is tolerable at best, so you always make sure to keep close attention to your surroundings when driving.

After all, it’s always a pain in the ass to have to clean animal or human remains off of your car tire. 

As you drove across a dim and quiet bridge, you slowed down your car and turned your gaze towards the flickering street light.

This wasn’t anything unusual, the lamp has been malfunctioning for quite some time and you come across it every time you drive home from your work.

But today, something is different.

You can see the outline of a person leaning against the light, hovering on the opposite side of the fence and staring down into the raging water below. 

Okay.

This is clearly not good. 

You didn’t hesitate to park your car on the side of the street, and proceeded to slowly approach the person.

As you walked closer to him, more definitive details entered your view.

He was wearing a blue hoodie, black gym shorts with white stripes going down each side of the pocket, and a pair of fluffy pink slippers. 

Usually a person’s appearance wouldn’t catch your attention. Admittedly it is a bit weird to be wearing shorts in this godforsaken weather, but it’s not your business to judge other people’s clothing of choice.

But as for this time, you can tell from the exposed, fleshless leg bones that what standing before you wasn’t a human.

It’s a skeleton monster. 

This discovery alarmed you even more, monsters have just been incorporated into the human society and can be easily overwhelmed by everything. 

“Hey man, how has your night been?” You said to the skeleton monster cautiously, trying to keep a leveled and calming voice. 

“Tibia honest with you?” The skeleton replied without turning around, “I haven’t been doing so hot lately, the winter can be quite brutal, you know?”

You relaxed a bit upon hearing his jokes, at least it seems like he’s still in the mood to hold a conversation.

“Name’s Y/N, how about you dude?” You started to speak again, careful to maintain a light mood, “it’s not everyday that I get to see a monster walking around the town.” 

“Sans,” he responded while giving you a quick glance, “Sans the skeleton.”

You chuckled a bit at the unnecessary clarification, “I see.” 

“So Sans, it’s awfully cold tonight, you down to come to the other side of the fence and go grab something warm with me?” You proposed optimistically, hoping to guide the skeleton monsters away from the ledge. 

“Thanks for the offer, but no, I want to stay here.”

Shit.

You cursed yourself silently, body immediately tensed at the other’s rejection.

If the worst comes to worst, you are prepared to launch forward and drag Sans back up. 

“Come on Sans, is there anything you want to talk about?” you made another attempt, not giving up on the monster just yet.

“It wouldn’t matter anyways.” Sans turned his head to you fully, an artificial grin frozen on his face, “it never mattered.”

For the first time, you can see the pure exhaustion prevalent in both of his eyelights. 

Despite his smile, Sans looked hollow and drained, as if he hadn't slept for the past three days.

As if he is too tired to hold on to life. 

“Please Sans, there is gotta be someone you can go back to, something that you haven’t gave up on yet, or else you would have ‘fell down’,” you are becoming increasingly desperate, there is no guarantee how long Sans will keep himself on the bridge, “please, just try again.” 

Sans hesitated at your word, a flash of pain showing across his face for a brief second.

“He’s better off without me,” Sans finally decided, turning his attention back to the water beneath him, “I’m really sorry buddy, but I could really use a break.” 

He took a step forward.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About that working on my Momma CQ fic first before coming back to this fic thing? Yeah, I kinda lied. XD
> 
> please don't hurt me ;-;

Sans was falling.

It took what seemed like an eternity for your brain to acknowledge this fact, but the skeleton’s grounded feet suggests that all but a split second have passed.

That would no longer be the case if you don’t do something soon.

Instinct took over in this time of emergency, although you still haven’t processed exactly what’s happening, your body stepped forward and grabbed Sans’ hoodie just as he lost the last of his footing on the bridge. 

Still helpless over your own actions, you see your other hand grabbing Sans by the waist and dragged the struggling skeleton back over the fence. 

Sans was light–much lighter than you thought he would be. 

Admittedly it was reasonable that a monster with only bones and no flesh don’t weigh much, but something still felt off.

The bones, instead of the expected sturdiness, felt fragile and hollow in your hand.

You wondered if you could break Sans just by gripping him too tightly. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sans’ angry accusation pulled you back to your senses, “just leave me alone! Why do you even care what happens to me?” 

“Of course I care, how do you expect me to just watch and kill yourself?” You replied to him somewhat baffled, heart still racing from the event that just happened.

‘How do you expect me to stand by and watch another person die again,’ you thought to yourself bitterly. 

“You don’t understand! I deserve this, just let me go you bastard!” Sans argued vehemently, still attempting to break free from your hold.

At this point, you were beginning to get irritated, angered by the skeleton’s complete disregard of his life.

“Shut up you idiot, no one deserves to die,” you replied with equal intensity, “I don’t care what you did in the past, choosing this path for yourself is incredibly selfish and stupid.”

Sans blatantly scoffed at your criticism. 

“Don’t act like you understand buddy, just go on with your life and stop trying to tell me what to do with mine.” 

“Give me a chance,” you fixed your gaze on to Sans, “just give me a chance to change your mind.” 

Sans hesitated at your offer, a confused expression replaced that of anger and resentment.

You could tell that he was considering what you meant, what you could say to possibly affect him.

“And what if I said no?”

“Then I will just hold you here until you agree.”

Clearly annoyed by your answer, Sans tried again to escape from your grasp, but to no avail. 

Realizing that you weren't lying to him about your plan, Sans admitted defeat and gave you a curt nod of compliance before turning away from your determined glare. 

Breaking out a small smile, you quickly helped the skeleton onto his feet and half dragged him to your car. 

To say that you are not prepared for this situation would be a gross understatement.

Your house is messy, there is no denying that fact.

Random pieces of clothing are scattered across the floor, unwashed dishes have accumulated into small mountains in the sink, and dust claimed every piece of furniture you owned, signifying that they haven’t been cleaned in months. 

In your defense, you live by yourself with absolutely no intention of finding a romantic partner, there is no reason to care about how your living space looked as long as you feel comfortable enough to live with it.

But right now? You really wished your lazy ass had inherited a fraction of your mom’s obsession with cleaning. 

As you guided Sans through your front door, you couldn’t help but notice the skeleton taking in the environment with curiosity, which gave you the sudden desire to squeeze yourself into a hole. 

“Anything you want to drink?” you offered desperately, trying to divert Sans’ attention away from the pathetic state of your house.

“Ketchup, if you have any.”

“...”

You do not want to know why. 

Quickly grabbing a bottle of ketchup and iced coffee, you set it down on the table that Sans has situated himself next to. 

Despite your best effort, you couldn’t help but cringe a bit as you watched Sans downed half of the bottled ketchup in one go, suddenly growing disinterested from your own drink of choice. 

Sans took a moment to let out a long sigh and relaxed himself on the chair before refocusing his attention back to you.

“So, you wanna tell me whatever it is that you want to say and let me go?” 

Right.

Your body tensed upon hearing Sans’ words, a hint of grief escaped from you as you recalled a deeply buried memory.

“I have always been an overachiever in life, in my high school and college years I was known as the ‘smart kid’, and that has become what is expected of me over the years.” 

As you began with your story, Sans’ physique visibly tensed up, anticipating for you to continue.

“If they had just kept this expectation solely on me, nothing would have gone wrong, I have grown used to them,” your tone became bitter.

“Whatever people have thought of me, they transferred this image on to my little brother. He was the sweetest, most kind person you will ever meet, but he was not academically gifted like I was.” 

At this point, your voice is beginning to shiver, but you pushed on.

“All his life, my little brother has been living in my shadow, trying to mimic what I achieved in the past without ever thinking about what he wanted himself.”

A pause.

“And he always failed.” 

By now your tremble is impossible to hide.

“He was always so...happy, you know? My little brother always had this bright smile whenever he talked to someone. No one, including myself, ever knew how he truly felt, how damaged he was from years upon years of failure.” 

You are barely holding back a sob, but you still noticed Sans shifting uncomfortably in his chair. 

“Looking back right now, if he wasn’t too kind to hate me, he probably would have lived.”

Sadness finally overwhelmed you with this statement, as you took a moment to wipe away your tear drop.

“But he never did. Until the day he killed himself, he always believed that everything was his fault. His fault for not being able to succeed, his fault not for being able to meet others’ expectations.”

“Until the day he killed himself, he BELIEVED that no one would care for his ‘worthless’ death.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a laughter at this, one filled with regret and misery.

“He was wrong Sans, he was very, very wrong. My little brother’s death will be a constant reminder to how I allowed him to be destroyed by my legacy, by my inability to see how broken he was...”

“It will haunt me for the rest of my life.” 

Sounds of a plastic bottle being squeezed suddenly caught your attention, you watched as Sans’ hand closed itself rightly around the ketchup bottle.

“I promised myself that I will never standby and watch another person fall into despair without trying to help them, which is why I approached you.”

You paused for a second, lifting your head up again to establish a direct gaze with Sans. 

“But more importantly right now, Sans, I don’t want you to give up on yourself without knowing the consequences it will have on the person you love, the person that you have been latching onto despite all the pain you are suffering through.”

The two of you fell into a long period of silence, Sans immersed in his own thoughts while you took the time to calm yourself. 

Eventually, you stood up and broke illusory serenity.

“I’ll go take a shower, feel free to help yourself with anything I have.”

As you were about to go up stairs, you hesitantly turned around to Sans for a quick instant.

“I won’t stop you from leaving.” 

And that’s exactly what you did, you left Sans completely to his own device.

He had given you a chance, and a chance is all you asked for.


End file.
